The Rubbish Lesbian gets loud and proud... in Currys

A routine trip to the electrical store takes a decidedly Sapphic turn

I do think it's important to be 'Loud and Proud', but it's
possible I might have taken that sentiment too literally. I've just
broadcast the fact I'm a lesbian to half of Currys Wembley. I
wouldn't mind, but I only went in there to test speakers.

I blame the store assistant. He was the one who instructed me to
try the sound of my chosen speakers for size. I plugged my phone
in, scrolled down to a random playlist, and hit play. He whacked up
the volume and gave me a look as if to say, "Just wait you're going
to be blown away." There was a momentary pause then a woman in a
very deep voice came lustily over the speakers saying, "Sapphic
Seductions, a collection of erotic short stories…" I'm blown
away.

At first I just stare at the dude from Currys and he stares back.
I had no idea that this racy little oeuvre was coming from my
phone; I thought it must have been a mistake. I was thinking, "Any
minute now Rihanna will kick in". But instead it continued, "I
could feel the soft silk of my blouse tighten against my chest as I
slowly arched my back in…" I glance down and notice my phone is now
helpfully displaying an image of a naked woman and the title
Sapphic Seductions. Oh hell. I'm wishing I'd gone for the cheaper,
less audible speakers, or better still headphones.

I know exactly how this happened. A few years ago I was stuck in a
Chicago airport lounge with a lot of stuffy businessmen. A heady
mix of boredom and Bloody Marys prompted me to search iTunes for
lesbian content and I downloaded this audiobook. It was a bit of
fun at the time and I've never listened to it since. In fact I had
forgotten about it's existence. This audiobook has been languishing
in my iPhone for the last six years like some lesbian curse, just
waiting for an opportunity to be heard again publically. Why now
audiobook? Why Currys Wembley?

Coming out as a lesbian is one thing, but coming out as a lesbian
fan of erotic audiobooks in a high street electrical store is
unconscionable. I would have some of my guilty pleasure music:
Steps, Celine Dion, or even Chris de Burgh. I frantically fumble
with my phone in an attempt to silence my Sapphic Seductions, but
I'm panicked and fat fingering. I can't make it stop. The couple in
the aisle opposite, who have been loudly arguing over extending a
television warranty stop what they're doing and listen. Everyone
from Home Cinema to Audio falls silent. All that can be heard is
the sound of a breathy voiced narrator and her tale of lesbian
office 'romance'. Oh God, where the hell's Rihanna when you need
her?